All That is Precious
by universe.disturber
Summary: By fate, she moved and found him. By love, she was amazed. By passion, she found death. AU Seddie fic, very, very slightly like Twilight.
1. Prolog: Dying for Him

_"You're all that I hope to find in every single way, and the hardest part of living is just taking breaths to stay." – Mayday Parade, "Miserable at Best"_

As I thought back on all that happened, there was no way this could be the end.

When I envisioned my demise, it always involved lack of food or being shot down by the police as a I ran away away away from crime. But now, as I lie alone, feeling the unbelievable pain, I knew this was the right way for me. I deserved it. I needed it.

And for what? Only love. A love that could now, never last.

All I wanted to do was live for him. And now, for his sake, I was near dead.

Very short prolog... I have a feeling this will be cool to write, though I'm not exactly sure how everything will occur.


	2. Chapter 1: Seattle

Las Vegas never looked so appealing.

It was the insane city I was forced to call my home for the first sixteen years of my life, and even at a young age, I couldn't bear it. The heat was too dry, and I felt like a lost sheep in a crowd of maturity, adults who had little to know common sense. Everywhere I turned there was squandering, gambling, drinking and all things someone so young shouldn't be often exposed to. And I swore that when I could, I would immediately migrate away from that hellish place.

My mom and my dad were divorced when I was six months old because my mom was in love with another man. Dad stayed behind in Seattle while Mom took me and fled to Las Vegas, Nevada. Unfortunately, the man Mom ran away for was a cheat and a liar- he'd been engaged to another woman for nearly two years. This broke my mother's heart. In the past, she's mentioned she would have loved to go back to Dad, but he was already set on divorcing. He would never take her back now that he saw her as ungrateful and as much of a liar as Mom's almost lover.

Mom decided that Las Vegas would become our new home. She knew she could find plenty of men to spend the nights with, even if they weren't long term relationships. She couldn't have those- she didn't trust those. All she knew was that she couldn't be alone. Sometimes, she became so involved with the men that she forgot about me, the person who had always been there and was held against her will to love her. I do love my mother, and I always will. But I can't be with her mostly neglecting attitude, and now that she's planning on having a troublesome boyfriend move in with us semi-permanently, I have to get out and move in with my dad.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?" Mom asked me when I came to the conclusion that I would go and live with Dad.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm sure," I told her confidently. "I'm sixteen- I can make up my mind on my own. Besides, you've never cared what I do."

"Dear, you know that's a lie," she tried to stand up for herself. "I love you, and I want what's best for you."

"Yeah, well, don't you think that if I think moving in with Dad is the best thing for me, than it is?"

She was silent for a few, long seconds, and then she heavily sighed.

"I guess that would be the best."

She gave me two weeks to pack up everything and get ready to depart for Seattle. When I moved, I knew my reputation wouldn't be much different. I'd still be the girl who got into trouble all the time, and I still wouldn't have friends. But it didn't matter as long as I was away from Las Vegas where the kids called me names like Bastard, Bitch, and Blondwad. You'd think kids get more creative as the decades roll by, but they don't. It seems to be an individualistic gift.

When the day came, Mom drove me to the airport, and I tried to escape from her hold as soon as I could. The easier I could leave her clutches, definitely the better.

"Goodbye, Sam," Mom said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm really going to miss you."

For the first time, I could honestly sense that my mother would actually miss me. I've always been around, and even when her boyfriends leave her or she cheats on them, she's always had me to talk to. Without me, she was completely alone. And I felt sorry for her, really. But this was something I had to do for me

"I'll miss you too, Mom," I said to her and meant it. "Love you."

"Love you."

Overcome by some sporadic emotional state, I embraced my mother in an extremely tight hug. She was caught off guard by the action and tumbled backwards a bit, but she recovered her balance and equally squeezed me.

"E-mail me as soon as you get to your dad's, okay?" she questioned, concerned for my safety.

"Don't worry," I swore. "I will. Talk to you soon."

"Right. Bye, honey."

"Bye!"

And I climbed onto the plane, praying for what I needed.

A few hours passed, and I stepped off the plane, now in Seattle. The outside was definitely different than Las Vegas, but I knew that would be the case. At that time, I was focusing much more on locating my dad. The agreement used to be that I would spend two weeks with him every month, but that died out once I was about eleven. Therefore, it's been years since I've seen him. Then again, how different could he look? Do people change once they reach a certain age? How old was my dad, anyway? Even I didn't know I had that many questions.

"Sam?" a familiar, male voice called softly.

I looked around and followed the sound, and I finally traced it to the speaker, who was clearly my father. Despite my usual, tough façade, I found myself uncontrollably running to my dad and giving him a hug, which was in no way like me.

"Hey, Dad!" I exclaimed happily.

"Hello, Sam," he greeted me and patted me on the back. "Certainly has been a while, hasn't it?"

Chuckling, I agreed. "Yep, you're right. Haven't seen you since I was in fifth grade."

"Then it's been too long." He pulled himself farther away from me and grinned.

"You look beautiful," he added. "I'm already proud of you."

His words were so contrasted from what people usually say regarding me, so, naturally, I had to contradict him. Living with me was not going to be an easy task.

"Hold your tongue, Dad," I laughed menacingly. "I'm not a walk in the park."

"Well, Sam, I know that," he replied. "That's why I love you."

Shocked by his response, he led me out to his black Jaguar, the car he'd received from his rich (now deceased) grandmother on his fifteeth birthday because she'd mixed up all the numbers. It's a funny story, but I can't help but covet the mistake. I'm nowhere near being a spoiled child.

Don Puckett, my dad, is obviously where my looks hail from. He has thick, sandy blonde hair and big, shiny blue eyes, and those features mirror mine exactly. He's very thin and tall, and I'm skinny and short, but I'd only be too lucky if I'd been blessed with height. As a kid, Dad always had a knack for getting in trouble, although he was usually busted for nabbing stuff from teachers, whereas I'm more of a bully. Still, he and I have caused difficulty nonetheless. Maybe that's why my mom was so worried when I decided to move in with Dad- the more alike, the more they fight.

Neither of us said much on the ride to my new home because there wasn't much to say yet. He and I also aren't very big talkers unless we're being evil to someone or something. I'm not all too fond of talking about myself, either, so telling him what was going on in my life was the worst thing I could think of. So, I kept quiet.

"Take a look, Sammie," Dad breathed as we pulled into the driveway, referring to me by my childhood nickname. "Remember this good old palace?"

And a palace it was when I was such a little girl. Now it just looked like an out of place house in the middle of the dreary city of Seattle. It was rather quaint, a very faint blue, and it was taller than it was wide. At the age of ten or eleven, I felt that this place was my escape. Now, I was scared to call it my home.

Where was home?

"Yeah, it's great, Dad," I agreed nonchalantly. He opened the front door and I went inside. There wasn't much exciting going on in the house, but there was definitely one thing I had to see.

"Your room's upstairs in case you forgot," Dad told me. "Hope you like it. Annie, this cashier, helped me design it. Don't be afraid to say you hate it."

"I'm sure I won't," I half-lied. I can be so tempermetal at times that even I can't predict my own behavior. "Plus, even if it isn't exactly me, I can do a little tweaking to make it look like a place Sam Puckett would inhabit."

"That's the spirit!" Dad joked. "Get up there, now! I really want to hear what you think."

Much to my surprise, I remembered exactly where my room had been. It used to be decked out in _Winnie the Pooh_ wallpaper, which actually sounded kind of cute to me now. But when I was nine, it made me beyond humiliated, so the walls were painted a dull shade of blue instead. I hoped that was changed. I was already sick and tired of the fog.

My room was different, and the walls weren't blue. Instead, they were a warm, rich red, and the bedspread matched almost perfectly. It had a pattern of golden and burgundy paislies, and everything just fit together perfectly. As a matter of fact, I was so shocked that I let out a puzzled chuckle.

"Well, do you like it?" Dad came up from behind me and questioned.

"Like it?" I repeated in a cliché manner. "No, I love it! It's so awesome, Dad! My second favorite color is red, which is pretty cool considering there was no way you could have known that?"

He furrowed his brow and inquired, "It's only your second favorite? What, may I ask, is the ultimate?"

"Brown," I replied simply. "It's the color of gravy."

For a while, he paused, and then he began to croak with laughter. He put his arms around me and said, "Sam, I'm so glad to have you here. But now I'm going to give you some time to unpack. I've got some business to take care of outside anyway."

"All right, cool," I went with the flow he was trying to set. "I'll let you know when I'm done unpacking."

He left the room, and I picked up one of my two suitcases and started filling up the dresser. Then it hit me again.

I was new. I had no clue where I was going, and I would start at a new school I the morning. No one would accept me, and I would have to try and get attention through mischief again. Didn't people realize my actual talent? Oh well, I guessed I would have to wait until the right person rolled around.

The leaves from outside ruffled and shook loudly, and I panicked. I checked outside, but all I could see was my dad, chatting on his cell phone to someone. Then he motioned for me to open the window, so I did.

"Hey, Sam!" he shouted. "I think it'd be great if you came outside. As of now, I'm expected a surprise for you."

Surprises. Should I fear?


	3. Chapter 2: Russetts

"Hey, Sam!" he shouted. "I think it'd be great if you came outside. As of now, I'm expected a surprise for you."

Dad stood outside in the February cold with two other people. They were both male, but one was obviously the other man's son. He looked about my age, but his features distinctly resembled his father's. Also, I couldn't help but think the two of them looked vaguley familiar.

"What do you think?" Dad asked.

I chuckled, puzzled.

"Of what?" I questioned honestly.

"The car," he pointed out like it was more obvious than a big, neon sign that screamed free bacon. "It's all yours."

That's when I finally looked past him to notice what he was leaning up against. It was a car- my car. A dark blue PT Cruiser that screamed my name.

"This is amazing!" I shouted happily and began to stroke the car like one of Mom's ex-boyfriends would do to roadkill. "You're joking, right? This can't even be mine!"

"I hope you're just in a state of shock," Dad laughed. "It cost me an awful lot to have Peter here repair it."

Then, I looked beyond Dad and the car and acknowledged the man who had apparently been smiling at me for the past three or so minutes. He was small for a man of his age with olive skin, hazel eyes and chestnut brown hair. It was unarguable that even though he was far older than I was, he was good-looking, and his son looked the same. Even if nothing became of it, I appeared to be in some sort of lucky situation.

"Hello, Sam," he said to me. "You probably don't remember me. I'm Peter Russett, an old friend of your dad's. I used to see you all the time when you were a little girl."

"No, I definitely remember now that you mention it," I told him, trying to sound friendly. "You have the daughter, Mary, right? Yeah, I remember you guys being around."

"Glad to hear it. Mary's doing fine, in the middle of her sophomore year of college. I've also got a son, Jonah, who's standing right here."

The boy worked his way up to me and shot me a toothy grin. I hoped he was kind and not cocky like his facial expression was radiating. I'd had my fill of cocky guys what with all Mom's men and more.

"Hi," the son greeted me. "I'm Jonah. You used to bury my face in the sandbox at the park."

Looking back, I laughed at my own absurdity. It sounded like something I would do then for a ridiculous reason. Then again, I don't have much reason to act the way I do now that I'm sixteen. I guess that's all part of being a confused female.

"Right," I snickered. "But you'd better watch out. Steal anything from me or try anything with me and I could do that to you again within a week."

Jonah grinned. "You'd better not. I'm still picking sand out of my teeth, and it's been about ten years since the sandbox and I were that intimate."

"That's a good one," I remarked. "Don't be surprised if I use it in casual conversation when such a subject pops up. I'll be sure to credit you."

Modestly, he shrugged. "Hey, it's all I ask."

Peter came back to the scene after he and my dad had been overly admiring my PT Cruiser. When he saw Jonah and I making conversation, I noticed that he was schemingly beaming at us, and I prayed to God that he wouldn't try to set me up with the kid. Sure, he seemed like a nice enough guy, but I just wasn't feeling anything special even when I talked to him in those short seconds. Cute as he may be, I was looking for that certain amazement factor that he just didn't have.

"We'd better run off, Jonah," Peter stated, still staring at the two of us. "After all, it's Don's first day with a full time daughter."

"Okay, Dad," Jonah replied, but I couldn't help but sense that he was disappointed. Romance is so not my thing.

He looked at me once more. "See you around, Sam. You going to Ridgeway High?"

"Yeah, that'll be my new prison," I teased.

"Wait until you see the cells," he played off me. "Believe me, they're guarded by some pretty creepy wardens."

Honestly, I laughed, and then Jonah and Peter drove off. Dad turned to me surreptitiously and tried to interrogate me.

"Sure was nice of Peter to repair and give you that car," he mumbled. "It's really nice, isn't it?"

"Awesome, actually," I breathed, distracted by something that was going on across the road. The dirt ground seemed to be moving- almost running- seven times in a row. And once in those seven times, the motion would cease, and I could hear a single word being whispered.

_You_.

Thinking I must be hallucinating, I blinked my eyes rapidly and shook my head. It was all my imagnation. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Hell, I was Sam Puckett, one of the most commonplace people out there. Everything was below the normal level.

"Jonah's a nice kid," Dad observed. "He's smart, clever, funny. And he's cute. Say, why don't you ask the kid for a date next time you see him? That'd make all of us happy."

Knowing this was going to happen, I tried my best to joke my way out of the awkward scenario.

"Sorry, Dad," I began, "but I'm not gonna fulfill some childlike fantasy you and Peter have got cooked up for Jonah and me. I didn't like to play house in kindergarten, and I'm definitely not gonna start playing happy family now."

Shockingly not hurt, Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"Eh, that's all right, Sam. You don't have to be with anybody you don't wanna be with. I guess for right now, it's just you and me."

Smiling, I replied with, "Don't think of it as a strange thing. Think of it as a terribly fun challenge."

Dad nodded. "Way to be optimistic. Hey, do you by any chance watch boxing or MMA fighting?"

"All the time. Why?"

"See, Peter and I just ordered this Pay-Per-View channel that only shows MMA fights, new ones and classics. Do you wanna watch that with me tonight?"

Satisfactorily beaming, I answered, "Something tells me this is going to be a beautiful father and daughter relationship. And something else tells me that it will be even better if there is ham involved at least five days a week."

"I'll make sure of it."

And now, I was pretty happy about living with my dad, just not the whole Seattle thing. That made me want to vomit my extremely delicious breakfast. But things would be good between Dad and me. After all, I am a man's woman.

In all aspects except for one.

************************

**So, yay! First, other than Sam being the new girl, why do you think this story is AU? Can you make a guess? Well, we already know one thing: Sam is openly book smart, which she wouldn't be on the show. But there's another CRUCIAL point that I wonder if you can pick up on. Any takers?**


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